


Absolution

by kaxen



Category: Darkest Dungeon (Video Game)
Genre: Fanart, Illustrated, Nonbinary Character, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-29
Updated: 2018-06-29
Packaged: 2019-05-25 07:44:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14972390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaxen/pseuds/kaxen
Summary: After regaining his freedom, the abomination Parthenai tries to find his place in a world that doesn't want him.





	Absolution

**Author's Note:**

> Mobile version seems to cut the images off. Larger versions of images [here](http://kaxenart.tumblr.com/post/175382744397/okay-my-illustrated-fic-is-up-on-ao3-since-tumblr)

Beaten and battered, Parthenai was a tired shell of his former self. His imprisonment had robbed him of most traces of his youth and there was nowhere to go. He had spent so long dreaming of freedom, it was the only thing he could have. He knew he wasn’t getting anything else. Even if he tried to go home, would they recognize him? Would he recognize them? Would it even be home anymore after so many years? What good would it do for them to learn the bright scholar had been reduced to a beast that hardly ever thought farther than the next day? It would probably be for the best if they imagined he was long gone. It had been long enough. 

Scraping out an existence was difficult. No one with eyes could ignore the mark upon his head and anyone with ears would be told about it. Too many men used him as a method to get some free labor, asking for some work to be done and accusing him of taking livestock or some other crime. No one was ever in a particular hurry to defend him. At best he was an expendable tool to get something done, at worst, he was a beast that probably should have been put down a long time ago.

The beast wanted to eat someone for the slight, though Parthenai knew letting it loose would just make things worse. The beast didn’t have much patience for trade and delayed rewards and liked it better when he couldn’t get even a moldy loaf out of the villages he passed through. Hunting suited it much better. Hunting is simple. Either food ends up in the mouth or it does not. Avoiding the villages made life easier for the beast. 

As he was walking along the dirt road, Parthenai heard a stagecoach approaching. He wasn’t expecting it to stop next to him.

“Hey!” the driver waved.

“I-I don’t want any trouble,” Parthenai said, glancing at the woods behind him.

“Do you know how to fight?” the driver asked.

“The circus already tried to use me for baiting,” Parthenai said.

“My employer is heir to a great estate and promises gold and glory to anyone willing to brave enough to fight monsters and retrieve their lost heirlooms,” the driver said. Parthenai thought both the stagecoach and its driver looked a little rough around the edges, though he guessed a conventional aristocratic family wouldn’t be asking around for fighters.

“Is the offer open to everyone?” Parthenai asked. “Actually everyone.”

“The heir made no stipulations,” the driver said. “You don’t look like a man with much to lose.”

“You’re not wrong,” Parthenai said.

 

* * *

 

 

The sun had barely dipped before the horizon as the stagecoach rolled into the hamlet. A small group of curious onlookers were waiting. The heir stood in front by a crumbling statue, well dressed in a blue coat and short in stature. No one would be surprised that they were not up to the task of fighting monsters.

The heir had a pensive expression as they glanced at people alighting from the stagecoach. Journal with a hanging inkwell contraption and quill in hand, they walked up to an antiquarian. 

 

“When you say ‘dangerous,’ how dangerous do you mean?” an antiquarian asked.

“Someone will die, most likely,” the heir replied. “Is that fine with you?”

“As long as there is treasure,” the antiquarian said.

“You’re hired then,” the heir said. “Name?”

“Venois,” the antiquarian replied.

“Alright,” the heir scribbled it down on their notes.

“I love dogs!” the heir said as they looked at a houndmaster’s dog. “That will boost morale. Who doesn’t love dogs? She’s so scruffy-wuff-”

The heir coughed as they tried to resume an air of seriousness.  

“Name?” the heir said.

“Brinon,” the houndmaster said.

“What about the hound?” the heir asked.

“Daisy.”

The heir nodded and walked on.

“Hmm… You don’t look as tough as the arbalest I already have,” the heir said as they glanced at an arbalest. "Sorry you've come all this way for nothing." 

The heir had to stand on the tips of their toes to look Parthenai in the eye. Parthenai wondered if the heir’s height made it harder to see the mark.

“You’re either more deadly than you look or have a death wish,” the heir remarked. “Which one is it?”

“It’s the former,” Parthenai said, though at times there was more than a little of the latter.

“Oh good. Good…” The heir nodded as they stood flat on their feet.

“Name?” the heir asked.

“Parthenai.”

The heir scribbled in their journal and continued down the line.

“Thank you for coming, but I won’t be needing all of you.”

The heir turned back to Parthenai, Brinon, and Venois.  “I’ll provide anything you need as long as you explore for me. I’m sure you all understand we live in a quite remote area so improvements and supplies might not arrive as quickly as any of us would like, but if all goes well, we will all do well in the end.”

The hamlet had seen better days, but Parthenai wasn’t going to knock on it. He wasn’t getting chased out with torches and pitchforks. That was good enough.

The new recruits and those in the village moved to make small talk. Some of the village children were as excited to see the houndmaster’s dog as the heir was. Parthenai stayed a little behind, unsure if anyone would want to talk to him. He had long since learned it was better to stay quiet in the back. Getting in a tussle, much less with experienced fighters, wasn't worth it. Some of them looked like they were of the faith which would be more trouble.

A plague doctor popped out of the crowd, walking straight towards him with a jaunty gait, green robes swaying.

“Name’s Louet,” the doctor shook his hand vigorously for the fraction of a moment before Parthenai pulled back.

“Parthenai.”

“Can I have a sample of your blood?” Louet asked.

“What.” Parthenai balked.

“I’ve heard about this condition but never seen it in person. A sample of eldritch blood could possibly give me ideas for better plague bombs!”

“Oh,” Parthenai said. “If you don’t need much.”

“What’s it feel like when you transform?” Louet said.

“Uncomfortable,” Parthenai said.

“ _Details_. I’m trying to do science here,” Louet said.

“Uh…”

“Well, you keep thinking,” Louet said as she pulled out a syringe.

“It won't hurt a bit!” She jabbed it at his arm. “Wow, you have tough skin.”

Louet jabbed him harder.

“Ooooh!” Louet’s coos of excitement sounded a little unsettling echoing inside her mask.

“Thank you!” Louet said as she emptied the syringe into a vial and put it into a pouch.

“Do you want to see the other things I have collected?” Louet asked as she put a bandage around Parthenai's arm. 

“Uh, s-sure. Yeah, I guess,” Parthenai shrugged.  

Louet pulled a different vial out of a pouch.

“I took this sample from a poisonous fungus that killed 50 people! Isn't that the most amazing thing you have ever seen?” Louet said as she shook the contents within, causing it to change color. “Look at its warning coloration! Of course some idiot still licked it.”

“Anything seems worth eating if you’re hungry enough,” Parthenai said.

“I guess you’re right,” Louet said. “How long was the trip for you? Need something to eat? Did I ruin your appetite?”

“No. I’m plenty hungry,” Parthenai said.

“There is plenty of food at the barracks. The hamlet is in a good mood after a group fought off the swine,” Louet said. “Come with me.”

As they walked, Louet pointed out the tavern and the abbey and the sanitarium.

“You’ll need at least one of these if you stay here long enough,” Louet said. “I like gambling. It’s all math.”

The barracks were large enough for sixteen people in eight bunks, though it seemed like someone was sleeping on the floor.

Parthenai didn’t like how the room got a little quieter after he entered.

A vestal glared at him. He was pretty sure the leper was also glaring at him. Something about the glint from between the slits of the mask. The flagellant was smiling, though the way that smile looked didn’t make Parthenai feel any better.

“We don't need to be unfriendly… We could just beat the eldritch poison out of him,” the flagellant said. Parthenai wasn't entirely sure how unfriendly that was meant to be, but either way it would hurt.

“Play nice or I’ll bandage you up,” Louet said.

Parthenai kept a wary eye on the three as he quickly grabbed a bread roll off the table.  

“My bunk is over there,” Louet pointed to a bottom bunk that had an almost unreasonable number of bottles tied to the bed frame. 

 

Parthenai carefully ducked around the hanging bottles and sat scrunched up in the corner.

“Bunch of unscientific hogwash, those three,” Louet said as she brought a plate stacked precariously with bread and meat.

“You’re the first person not to be scared or suspicious of me in a long time,” Parthenai remarked.

“Now, now, I never said I wasn't suspicious. But even if you were to go all loony one gibbous moon, I could probably incapacitate you first,” Louet said. “I’m very good with stun gas. Also very good aim with throwing. Won loads of bets at university that way.”

“Oh,” Parthenai sighed.

“But to be fair, I don't trust anyone that much. People go raving mad out there,” Louet said. “Three weeks ago, that vestal Grai just broke and we barely got out with our lives no thanks to her. Screaming about how hopeless it all was. Pretty sure every monster for miles heard it! Then Reynauld nearly cracked from all of that mess, but he’s quite courageous at the end of the day… bit of a kleptomaniac, though...”

“Not much scares me,” Parthenai said. “Comes with having a beast I can't run away from.”

“I hope you don't end up eating those words,” Louet said as she lifted up her mask to take a bite of bread.

Parthenai took one bite and nearly inhaled the rest of the roll. 

“I got the rest of this for you,” Louet handed over the plate. “You look like you need more food than one roll.”

“Oh. Uh, thanks,” Parthenai said.

“Louet! What are you doing acting so friendly to a neophyte? Could be dead in a week,” an occultist said as he walked in.

“I wanted a bottle of his blood,” Louet said. She turned to Parthenai. “This is Bauldry.”

Bauldry plucked the tips of his mustache as he looked up and down at Parthenai. “I will learn your name in a few weeks, if at all.”

Parthenai shrugged.

“You don’t leave a very good impression,” Bauldry said.

“I don’t think I’ve left a good impression on anyone in the past thirty years,” Parthenai mumbled.

“I take it you are not in the mood to work on cyphers?” Bauldry turned to Louet.

“I’ve got a new subject of interest today,” Louet said.

“Suit yourself,” Bauldry said as he walked off.

“I’m guessing you don’t have much to unpack, but that bunk is unoccupied. So is that one and the one above me. I have some money against Dismas that that one is going to be unoccupied before this week is over,” Louet said as she pointed around. “Though I guess you could try all of them. I don’t think most of the nonreligious ones care that much. The vestals are paranoid about men and their manly needs. You don’t want to sleep near the flagellant even if he would let you. Sigman is completely out of his mind. And he snores.”

Parthenai looked around. The vestals had a privacy screen set up around their bunk. He guessed the flagellant was the one sleeping on the floor. The pair using the bunk in the corner were absent, but there seemed to be more trinkets and baubles than anywhere else.

“You wouldn’t mind if I slept in the bunk above?” Parthenai said. “You seem the friendliest.”

“Oh I’m not that friendly,” Louet said. “It's just nice to study someone who isn’t grossed out. Instead of poking grubs in a jar or scraping skin off of Dismas.”

Louet pulled down a bottle.

“There’s nothing weird about saving other people’s boils, I mean _honestly_ ,” Louet said. “It’s not science if you don’t take notes and save it for posterity.”

Louet moved to lift the lid of the barrel at the foot of her bed.

“I also have a lot of leeches,” Louet said.

“That’s no problem,” Parthenai said.

“Are you interested in studying bugs and medicine?” Louet asked.

“I like studying nearly anything,” Parthenai said.

“Really? I wouldn’t’ve pegged you for that,” Louet said.

“But it, it was, uh, it has been a long time ago since I’ve been a, uh, scholar… with everything that, um, happened...” Parthenai trailed off. He finished off the plate of food, hoping to swallow down the mix of fear, anxiety, and anger that had filled every waking hour of his life for so long. It caught in his throat for a moment. He didn’t want to dig that up here any more than he needed to. He swallowed hard. 

“That means I’ve got a lot of information to catch you up on!” Louet didn't seem to miss a beat. 

“Huh?”

“I went to university and I am smarter than everyone!” Louet said. “It’ll be like three professors in one. Or maybe five. Depends on which university you compare me to.”

Hours later and with a head full of enough facts to perhaps skip the first year of medical schooling, Parthenai climbed onto the top bunk to sleep. Louet’s hanging bottles clinked together like a miniature orchestra. He hadn’t had a proper bed in a long time. It felt a little weird almost as he stared at the ceiling, worried at least slightly less about the state of his life. Sleep came more quickly than usual.


End file.
